


Drinking with Qrow

by isissa



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcoholism, Bar, Drinking, Drunk Kissing, Dub Con References, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Snuggling, dub con, gender neutral reader, its just smoochin tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isissa/pseuds/isissa
Summary: that's it you just drink with qrow and try to smooch him but he's too precious, too pure, to let you do that. lots of feelings. best read while listening to vaporwave or some slow ambient music.





	Drinking with Qrow

**Author's Note:**

> there's some drunk!kissing but nothing too bad. if drunk!kissing upsets you tho I wouldn't read the fic.

 

There’s only one other person at the bar when you slide onto the stool a few seats down from them. Not that there’s only one other person _in_ the bar, the establishment has quite a few people in it, but the bar seats themselves have one solitary man seated upon them. He’s tall and handsome, from behind at least, though as you side-eye him while pretending to think about what drink you want, you’re delighted to see he has quite the charming look on his face. The bartender walks over to you and glances to the man beside you before giving you a quizzical look. You ignore it and order something. Something kinda impressive, but also not too heavy. Vodka orange? Yeah, go with that.

The man you’ve been admiring glances your way when the bartender slides the glass down the bar. Wow, you didn’t know bartenders did that outside of movies. He grins at you as you catch the drink. There’s an odd moment where he tips his head to the side in the direction of the man at the bar before he turns around to clean glasses. The cartoonish act of the bartender keeps your attention for a little while before you notice the other man glancing at you briefly. You smile.

He smiles back. Yes. Nice.

“What’s a huntsman doing all the way out here?” You ask, casually as you can manage. He cocks an eyebrow at you and his hand seems to drift backwards towards the weapon on his back. You feel the need to follow the ominous comment up with something less threatening, so you add “I’m a hunter to, don’t worry.”

He relaxes a bit and takes a long sip out of the glass in front of him. He places it back on the bar empty and the bartender is already pouring out another glass. Huh.

“Long story, kiddo.” He catches the glass and presses it to his lips for a little while before actually taking a sip. He then holds it out towards you. “You don’t have to sit two seats down.”

You take the hint and shuffle over to sit next to him, having him hand you his drink in the process.

“Y’drink whiskey?”

“Uhh…” _I guess so?_ “Yeah, I love whiskey.”

He grins. “Cool. Try that. It’ll really knock your socks off.”

You take a sip, trying not to look nervous or suspicious, but the alcohol splashes against your tongue. It’s stronger than anything you’ve ever drunk before but you manage to swallow it, gagging immediately after. “What the fuck was in that?!”

He grins. “name’s Qrow. Me, not the drink. This is the only place that’ll sell ya that – the big cities can’t handle it.” He pats you on the back. Your head feels a bit floaty but his hand is very warm. You almost lean into it before he’s finished patting you. “You don’t seem to like it much either.” He laughs.

Oh, is that how it is? “I’ll have another one of whatever he’s having.” You ask, your eyes only briefly glancing away from Qrow’s to flash the bartender a smile. The bartender shakes his head disapprovingly before fixing you your drink, choosing to hand it to you rather than make a show of sliding it down the bar. You take the drink in one hand and make eye contact with Qrow and proceed to finish the entire glass in a few gulps. He looks impressed, but your eyes water as you try not to gag on the taste. He doesn’t point it out, so either he didn’t notice or he’s being nice. How cute.

“That’s gonna fuck you up, kid.” He warns, taking a sip of his drink with a smug smile on his face. “Unless you drink as much as I do, and… let’s be honest…”

Something in you feels the need to compete with him when he’s that god damn smug.

“What gave you that idea? I’m no stranger to a drink, Qrow.”

“That reminds me. What’s your name?”

You tell him and he smiles approvingly. “That’s a nice name. Reminds me of somethin’, but I can’t remember what. A flower or something?”

“I don’t know?”

“Well. Anyway.” He lifts his glass and taps it to the one still in your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“So, are you gonna buy me a drink?” You ask, a pleasant tingling sensation beginning to spread through the back of your head and lips. You’re probably tipsy already, which is embarrassing, considering you just started drinking. You try your best to stay steady and avoid slurring.

Qrow just winks at you. “Nope.”

“Charming! Well, I did just crash your party, so whatever.”

A few other customers come up and order drinks and you and Qrow sit there in silence for a while. It’s a comfortable silence, and it gives you time to chew on your bottom lip which is now tingling, as well as your mouth. You turn around to order another drink and feel the world spin dramatically, making you blink hard to steady yourself. The bartender turns around only after your momentary weakness and happily serves you another one of those death drinks Qrow’s been nursing for a while. You sip at this one for a bit while staring at Qrow. After a while you realise you’ve been staring for way too long, but you don’t stop. Qrow shoots you a quizzical look and you stare at the bar instead.

“See something you like?”

Qrow’s question takes you by surprise and you quickly look up at him. Too quickly, probably, because it takes a bit for your eyes to focus. Qrow’s eyebrows furrow. Your cheeks feel pretty hot… how did you get this drunk?

“I’m gonna go outside for a smoke. Come with?”

“Sure.”

Qrow stands up and you stand up after him. Everything’s spinning a little bit, but you’re fine. You take a step and suddenly the floor is a _lot_ closer than you thought it was and Qrow’s arms are catching you right before you give the wooden floorboards a 50 mile per hour kiss. He scoops you up and drags your attention into a long stream of eye contact. One of his hands feels your cheek and you nuzzle into it, unable to help yourself. His hands just feel so nice.

“Ooookay kiddo. We doing alright? I think it’s time for you to stop drinking.” He takes his hand off your face, but one of them is on your shoulder to keep you steady.

Yeah…He’s probably right. But that’s not what matters. What matters is being cool. “I’m fine.” You lie smoothly.

Qrow glances over at the bartender. “Hey Mick, no more drinks.” He looks back at you. “Fresh air sound good?” 

“Sure…?”

“Alright, c’mon.” He guides you gently out the door. You’re able to walk just fine with a little bit of reassurance from his hand, the two of you taking a few steps out into the cold night air. It’s not overpoweringly cold, but the temperature change gives you a chill that makes you shiver. Qrow puts one arm over your shoulder and pulls you up next to him. He lights a cigarette using his other hand, somehow. It’s impressive.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” You mumble, eyes caught between the night sky and the way he looks when he draws from the smoke in his mouth. He casts you a downward glance, but mostly his sight is trained on the stars and the trees all around. The bar you’re at is surrounded by woods for about a mile around, halfway between two smaller towns. For the first time it strikes you how isolated this place is.

“Why’s that?” His voice has a bit of a purr to it after he inhales smoke and it makes your chest feel a little tight. It’s really cute…

“You don’t smell like tobacco.”

Qrow raises an eyebrow at you and laughs a bit. “What do I smell like?”

Oh, well that’s a good excuse as any. You press your head into his chest and take a deep breath in through your nose. Yep, it’s all shaving cream, cologne and alcohol. You tell him that, your head still buried in his chest. You should move, but it’s really nice here. When he laughs at your response you can feel his chest rumble a bit. You stay there for a while, breathing in his scent. Oh no. You’re falling for him. Abort. Abort.

You lean back finally, begrudgingly leaving his personal space bubble. You miss the feeling of his arm over your shoulders immediately, but turn and take a few steps towards the forest in front of you anyway. You look up at the sky, which spins a little in your drunken vision, causing you to step backwards to regain your balance. You know Qrow’s probably judging you, but the atmosphere is too perfect for you to care. Qrow takes another long drag and you turn to watch the smoke from his cigarette waft into the air. There’s some soft orange light from the old-style lanterns that burn out front of the bar.

“Why do you drink?” You ask. You’re not sure where the question came from, but your hazy state has made you a bit impulsive. Qrow adjusts his stance a bit, looking uncomfortable.

“Tough question.”

“Is it?”

“It… yeah. It is.”

“Okay.”

There’s a silence between the two of you for a while. Qrow’s not angry, but he does look conflicted. Maybe upset.

“Sorry. About asking.” You say. You’re not even sure if apologising was a good idea.

“When’d you have your first drink?” He asks. You’re a bit taken aback by the question but do your best to answer.

“I was maybe…16? I was at a party with some of my friends. They slipped some out of their parent’s room. It was flowery wine. Not very good.”

Qrow nods. “I was 14.”

He leaves a pause for a moment and you wonder what he’s thinking about as he furrows his eyebrows and takes another long drag. He exhales through his nose.

“Similar story though.” He adds. “Stuff was pretty bad back then. Wanted to have a drink for fun, to be rebellious, but I’ve been relying on it ever since.”

“That’s rough, buddy.”

Qrow laughs, a genuine, bubbly laugh. “Yeah, it is.” He bends over to ash his cigarette on the ground before throwing it into a small ash tray beside the door to the bar. You follow him as he walks back inside. You’re still unsteady on your feet. Qrow notices this and shakes your head as you approach the bar again.

“Upstairs, thank you.”

The bartender, Mick, gives Qrow a silent thumbs up.

“Get ya mind out of the gutter, Mick.” Qrow growls, taking you by the hand and walking up the flight of stairs on the far side of the room with you. Upstairs there’s a range of doors, he leads you into one and flicks on the light. It’s a small room with a double bed and a few lamps, a power point and nothing else of note.

“You’re lucky you don’t have alcohol poisoning.” He remarks as he walks over to the desk beside the bed and picks up a flask, taking a few sips out of it before slipping it into the drawer.

“Didn’t you drink the same amount I did?”

Qrow rolls his eyes.

“That’s not much of an answer!”

“Yes, but my brain cells died years ago. Happy?” He wanders over to a mirror on the far side of the room and tidies his hair up. “Alright, you catch some sleep. I’m goin’ downstairs. I have some stuff to take care of, and you look fucked up.”

You furrow your eyebrows and look at him incredulously. “Seriously? I can take care of myself, Qrow. Thank you, but I don’t need to go to bed-“

“Kid, you’ve been stumbling around for an hour now. You’re not going to drink anything if you go back downstairs so why bother at all?”

“Well then stay up here with me?” You offer, walking over to where he’s standing, splitting his attention between self preening and arguing with you.

“Mick’ll never let me hear the end of it.” He laughs.

“Why?” You suddenly feel the need to get as close to him as possible, so that’s just what you do. You take a fist full of suit jacket in one of your hands and lean onto his chest. “Afraid he’ll think you did something dirty?” You tease.

You can see a flush on Qrow’s face and it makes your insides do a flip out of joy. Something sadistic boils up inside you and you feel the need to get Qrow back for treating you like a child. You cradle your face into his neck and breathe onto it, feeling him tense up. He pulls you off him and looks at you sternly.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Hardly.”

“Listen, I’m not going to – “ You cut him off by licking a stripe across his neck. “Alright kid, that’s enough…” He steps backwards suddenly, putting distance between the two of you. He then skirts around you and out the door. “I’m going out. The doors not locked, you’re a free citizen. You can stay here if you want.” He slips out the door without another word, looking flustered and red-faced.

It was revenge, but not as much as you wanted. You sulk over to the bed and sit on it. Then you lay back and enjoy the delightful dizziness of alcohol. You roll over and notice the bed smells like Qrow. It’s not as strong as the real thing, but it’s definitely there. This is nice. You take a quick glance at your scroll, no notifications. You snuggle into the blankets, laying mostly on top of them but pulling them around you here and there and close your eyes.

It’s an hour before you’re awake again.

You sit up, groggily, feeling a headache coming on. Gross. You look around and suddenly remember where you are. You look around the room for any sign of Qrow, or anyone else, and then roll over and sniff the blankets again. Gross. But also amazing. It smells really good. Qrow’s taste in cologne or deodorant or perfume is superb. Either way.

You sit up. Your head is still pounding, a splitting ache from the crown of your head down your skull. You fumble around in the relative darkness for a while – Qrow must have returned to turn the lights off – before remembering the drawer. More alcohol always helps. You fumble with it for a little while more before pulling out the flask and unscrewing it. The smell is terrible, it’s like rubbing alcohol for cleaning tables but a million times stronger. You pinch your nose and down a few mouthfuls. It burns, of course.

Qrow has the worst taste in alcohol. It might get you fucked up quickly, but it tastes terrible. It’s like some sort of abstract self-torture method.

Oh.

You suddenly feel like you understand Qrow on some uncomfortable level, much more intimately than you should.

…Anyway…

You sit in silence for a while. Staring up at the ceiling. Then you scroll through some websites on your scroll. Then you smell the sheets again. The alcohol is setting in and your headache is fading away, only to be replaced with pleasant numbness in your mouth and a buzz. You’re rolling around on the bed enjoying the feeling of the blankets when the door swings open. Qrow shuffles in and you make eye contact, your head hanging off the side of the bed, laying on your back. He turns around and starts to leave again but you call after him. He enters the room again and looks at you for an uncomfortably long time.

“yo.” You break the silence.

“hey.”

You pat the bed next to you, signalling to him to sit down. For whatever reason he actually does, and you rest your head on his lap and look up at him. You’d expect him to push you off, but he doesn’t, and you make comfortable eye contact for a little while. His eyes sparkle just a touch in the dim light and you want to reach out and touch his stubble, but that might be too weird.

“Rough night?” You ask. Stupid alcohol fuelled impulsivity.

He grimaces. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

There’s that silence again. It’s not like it’s awkward, but this time it’s a lot heavier. Silences with Qrow before have seemed comfortable, but this is a “waiting for one of you to do something” sort of silence.

“We could talk about it.”

Qrow grimaces.

“Or nah. Let’s not.”

_We could kiss instead._

Qrow raises his eyebrows. You touch a hand to your lips. Shit. That was out loud. Oh fuck.

You can feel your face flush red. You’re not sure why this flusters you so much, considering you’ve spent the day crawling all over him, but you go to sit up. Qrow slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls your face closer to his by guiding your torso up to him. For a few moments your lips are almost touching. Then you lean forward and give him a tender kiss. It’s a quick kiss on the lips, nothing more. His lips are dry but you regret pulling away so quickly because they’re so god damn nice.

You sit up a bit more, wiggling until you’re actually sitting up, right next to Qrow. Then you gently guide his face to the side so you can reach him, and kiss him again. You take a little longer this time before pulling back.

“Thanks.” You mumble. Qrow laughs.

“Thanks?” He repeats.

“Well – I – I was just saying thank you for…”

“Don’t worry kiddo. I getcha.” Qrow moves to face you properly and slings his arms over your shoulders, pulling you forward. Suddenly he’s kissing you with more force than before, licking his lips as he takes a breath. Your heartbeat picks up as you feel his tongue swipe over your bottom lip. You glance up at him without breaking the kiss and see that his eyes are closed. It’s really cute how much he’s getting into this. You part your lips and feel him deepen the kiss, his hand running through your hair.

He tastes of alcohol too. It’s kinda weird. Like breathing in his scent for long enough could make you intoxicated. Or maybe that’s just because you’re ridiculously attracted to him. That might be it. You nibble on his lip to test his reaction and feel his fist tighten it’s grip on your hair just slightly. You give a little appreciative noise, egging him on to do it more. When you finally pull back from him you’re gasping for air and hoping he’ll pull on your hair again. He doesn’t look as flustered as you feel, but there’s want in his eyes. Or you hope there is, and you’re not just projecting your feelings onto him. But it looks a lot like want.

You reach out to his chest and run your hand down his torso. You lean into his chest and rest your head on him while your hand draws circles on his thighs. Your hand creeps inbetween his legs before he takes it in his own hand, pulling you away.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.”

You look up at him, but he just shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “As much as I’d like to…and…I would _really_ like to…you’re drunk.”

“So are you…?”

“So it’s twice as bad. No.”

He stands up and slips off his shoes, jacket and shirt. Then he crawls back into bed and pulls back the sheets. He motions for you to lay down with him. You do so and start cuddling big spoon / little spoon style, with his arms wrapped around you. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft breaths and the feeling of his body warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> god bless qrow


End file.
